


believe me a little more

by alakazam



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A little bit of angst, Canon Universe, Cigarettes, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Motorcycles, Post-Season/Series 07, Silly, Smoking, hot cheetohs, it's emotional, it's not situational, nothing embarrassing don't worry, pre-s8, uhhhh they're funny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 08:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17321708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alakazam/pseuds/alakazam
Summary: Lance froze.“Keith?!” He croaked, voice cracking. He cleared his throat self-consciously.And then the scene in front of him fully registered.Keith was less than ten feet away. Keith was leaning against the side of the building. Keith was looking at him.Keith was smoking a cigarette?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> marked as teen for smoking. i DO NOT CONDONE cigarette usage. try your best not to smoke because it is very bad for you.

Lance exited the Garrison through a service door, out the back, where no one had bothered with all-glass walls or spotless white furniture. Fluorescent lamps hummed the concrete floor orange, but tonight the artificial light was weak compared to the full moon’s. Like a stadium floodlight, the moon was so bright it was painful to look at.

In its powerful glare, every nearby object cast a shadow so dark and clearly defined that it seemed to him the fabric of the universe had been cut into with scissors. The desert lay spilled out in front of him, blue and infinite in the moonlight. 

A small smile found Lance's lips as the cool night air washed over him, and he felt the day rinse off with each slow breath. He reached his arms out to each side, relishing the stretch, and glanced to his left—

Lance froze. 

“Keith?!” He croaked, voice cracking. He cleared his throat self-consciously.

And then the scene in front of him fully registered.

Keith was less than ten feet away. Keith was leaning against the side of the building. Keith was looking at him. 

Keith was smoking a cigarette?

“Hey,” Keith replied, without dropping his gaze. He looked remarkably unconcerned, which for Keith was practically carefree. 

“Where’d you even get those?” The question left Lance’s mouth before he finished thinking it. The nearest town was sixty miles away, and the Garrison was famous for its strict enforcement of drug-free policies.

Keith simply jerked his head towards his motorcycle, which stood in the shadows at the corner of the building. 

“Oh.”

They stood in silence for a moment and looked at each other. _Okay, everything’s fine, act normal_ , Lance told himself, suddenly feeling slightly queasy. He slowly returned to stretching out his shoulders. Keith took a drag and turned his gaze back to the desert. On his exhale, smoke curled and twisted in front of him, dancing away with grace. 

Lance watched it, eyes expressionless. _Pretty_ , he thought. 

His eyes flicked back to Keith, whose outline seemed cut from glass in the sharp moonlight. The hard lines of his body, familiar leather jacket accenting his lean physique, long, dark hair framing his face – and yet Keith’s expression was soft, eyes dark, the bright red tip of a cigarette hanging loosely from his fingers. 

Pretty.

“Y’know, you smoke enough of those things, you might accidentally become cool,” Lance joked. He was rewarded with a quirk of Keith’s lips and a miniscule huff of laughter. 

“Maybe you should start then,” Keith replied.

“Hey, you can’t peer pressure me. Just say no, Keith. Crack is wack.” 

Keith chuckled again. Pleased with himself, Lance grinned and reached both arms overhead, pulling on one wrist and stretching his side body. 

So fast that Lance barely caught it, Keith’s eyes slid over his stomach where his shirt had lifted. Then Keith was suddenly very busy looking at the ground. In the wash of pale light it was hard to tell, but his cheeks seemed a shade darker.

No, that couldn’t be right. He must have imagined it.

Lance’s heart began to beat faster as the silence stretched on. He had no clue what to say. It had been a flurry of activity since they defeated the Galra invasion of Earth, and he and Keith had barely spoken to each other. He had tried not to be disappointed when his near-constant companion in space had turned distant and reserved when they finally caught up to peace. The old Keith, opinionated and passionate, always pulling off the impossible, felt like a dream that Lance was trying desperately to hold onto. He wanted to reach out, but what did you say after something like that? What did you say to the person who helped you save the world? 

Honestly, it was pretty awkward.

But he didn’t want to leave. A strange feeling was growing in his stomach, a nervous tension, and he shivered. 

Keith’s eyes moved back to Lance’s. Lance swallowed. He wished he could read what was going on in Keith’s mind. 

“What are you thinking about?” He said. Screw it.

Keith’s eyes widened a fraction and he opened his mouth, then closed it. He cleared his throat. 

Lance resisted the urge to reach for a nonexistent bayard. Instinctually, Keith often put him on guard. But the dark-haired boy seemed to deflate, gaze returning to the concrete between his feet. 

“Uh, nothing much.”

Hm.

Lance pursed his lips thoughtfully. This chance meeting felt right, somehow. He had to seize the moment to…do something…but he had no idea what. Launching into a speech about the bonds of war or whatever would definitely fall flat.

Abruptly, Lance realized something extremely important. So important that all thoughts of attempted declarations and dashing heroics and jaw-dropping piloting flew right out of his mind.

“Oh my god.”

“Huh?” Keith looked up, startled.

“You…you took your motorbike to get…where did you get those? I mean where, exactly? Because if you have…then…” He took a deep breath, eyes shining with excitement. He lowered his voice to a stage whisper.

“Did they have Hot Cheetos?”

Keith snorted.

“That’s what you wanna know? If they have Hot Cheetos?”

“Keith! I haven’t had them in literal years! I forgot all about them, okay? Deadly space adventures will do that to a guy! Did they have them or not?”

“I’m not sure. It was a gas station store. I think they had snacks and stuff.”

Lance didn’t hesitate.

“Take me.”

Keith quirked an eyebrow. “Now?”

“YES NOW! I have a dire need, you…you bike man!” He winced.

Keith let out an actual laugh. “That’s a new one.”

“Well, I can’t think straight now that I’ve realized Hot Cheetos exist.” 

Keith seemed to be trying to contain a smile, so Lance plowed onward. 

“And if I don’t get some I will most certainly die, so you should really take me to get some right now immediately. So that I don’t, uh, die. Of Cheetoh deficiency. And lack of spicy snack…minerals.” He clamped his mouth shut, then added belatedly, “Um, please.” 

Suppressing a grin, Keith said, “I dunno, Lance…it’s kind of a ways off and it’s pretty late.”

Lance folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. “Who are you, and what did you do with Keith? Sorry, grandma, I didn’t realize it was past your _bedtime_.”

Keith raised an eyebrow. “What’s in it for me, then?”

Lance put his hand over his heart, wounded. “Keith! After all I’ve done for you? Isn’t my eternal gratitude enough? The gift of my sparkling personality is highly sought after these days. You should count yourself lucky, dude.”

Keith shook his head, shoulders shaking with mirth. “Jesus. Fine.”

“Wait, really?” Lance was surprised, having expected more resistance.

“Yeah, sure. I was going there anyway.”

Lance groaned. “You jerk! You made me beg for nothing!”

“Beg? You just said I should be begging _you_ to hang out with me.” Keith stubbed his cigarette out and flicked it into a nearby trashcan, then pushed off the wall and moved toward his motorcycle. 

“Yeah, well, you should be,” Lance mumbled, following. Keith glanced back at him, and Lance met his eyes briefly before looking away. 

“Whoa. Nice bike,” he said—partially to change the subject, but close up, it really was beautiful. It was a Yamaha, gleaming red and black, all sharp angles and streamlined edges. “It suits you.” 

When there was no response, Lance looked up. Keith was still eyeing him, expression unreadable. 

“What?” Lance asked, trying to act unfazed under Keith’s scrutiny. He had endured it enough to be used to it by now, hadn’t he? Although the blush rising to his cheeks said otherwise. “It does.” 

“Thanks,” Keith muttered, turning his gaze back to the motorcycle. He produced two helmets from its saddlebag and tossed one to Lance before straddling the bike. Lance licked his lips, nervous, and tentatively climbed on behind. 

As he inched closer and gripped Keith’s leather jacket tightly near the waist, he could feel warmth radiating off of Keith’s broad shoulders, flooding his own chest. He noticed absentmindedly that his fingers were shaking. 

“Tighter.”

“Huh?” Lance said, in a rather high-pitched voice, and a little too fast for someone who was totally relaxed and having a very super chill time right now, thank you.

“You have to hold on tighter,” Keith said impatiently, releasing the handlebars and reaching back to grab Lance’s forearms and pull them tight around his waist, bringing their bodies flush. The sudden flood of warmth to Lance’s front was both a welcome relief from the cold night air and the most supremely nerve-wracking thing to happen to him in recent months. He could feel Keith’s toned back muscles through his jacket, and his flat stomach under Lance’s hands where they were locked around Keith’s middle. Every part of him was burning hot. 

Lance gave a shaky exhale. 

Good lord.

“Uh,” he said coherently. He privately thanked God that Keith couldn’t see his glowing cheeks, and tightened his hold, pointedly ignoring the fact that he was basically giving Keith a super long hug. He cleared his throat. “I’m ready.”

He could hear Keith’s smug grin in his reply. “You wish.”

The acceleration was powerful and instantaneous. Lance’s involuntary yelp was pressed back into his throat by the force of it and he gripped the boy in front of him even tighter. _Not even space travel felt like this_ , he thought to himself dumbly. Keith, the motherfucker, just leaned further into the headlong speed and Lance felt an absurd giggle rise up through his chest—this was like clinging to the outside of a rocket—like racing a comet—like slingshotting around the sun. It was insane. It was terrifying.

It was _wonderful_.

“WOOOOHOO!” He yelled at the sky, laughing with pure glee. Keith flicked a look back at Lance, who was grinning like a maniac. Keith was wearing a matching grin and a daring gleam lit up his eyes. He turned back to the road and sped up, skirting the Garrison with ease to shoot down its only access road. Strong winds whipped at Lance’s clothes, but he felt so safe holding onto Keith that the sensation was exciting. He could feel the blood pumping in his veins—could feel his heartbeat in his fingers. Nothing could touch him right now. 

As they flew down the solitary highway, Lance’s adrenaline rush settled into a soaring contentment and he gazed at the landscape around them for what felt like years. A blue desert sprawled on all sides, studded with spiky trees and barrel cacti, piled with enormous molten boulders in the distance. Despite the moon’s glaring presence, the glittering sky above them sang out the silent songs of a thousand alien civilizations. 

When Lance used to look at the heavens he felt oppressively lonely. Sometimes it was exciting, that dizzying unknown; other times, horrible, menacing, promising never-ending danger. But tonight, for the first time, he gazed up at the brilliant, deep-blue carpet of stars and felt familiarity. The love of each of those civilizations shining down on him—him and Keith. On them together, and what they had accomplished. It was unreal.

Lance’s chest tightened. He felt a strong urge to hug the boy in front of him as tight as he could, and didn’t bother resisting. He flooded with a rush of affection and relief that this person, this teammate and rival and friend, was alive. 

And there was a rush of something else—something heartstopping that Lance knew was waking because despite how distant he’d been recently, right now Keith was still so warm, so wild, and _so goddamn close to him_.

Lance might have heard Keith squeak at the sudden embrace, but Keith would probably deny it if confronted.

Slowly, Lance lowered his head to rest on Keith’s shoulder. He spread his fingers wide over Keith’s chest and pressed their bodies more firmly together. Keith stiffened. _You’re crazy_ , Lance’s brain told him dazedly, but he ignored it. This didn’t count. No accusations could be made about what did or did not happen on motorcycles with reckless boys when no one was around to see. 

When he felt Keith relax and lean back into his embrace slightly, Lance smiled and closed his eyes. A hopeful flame of _maybe_ lit itself in his heart. He shushed it. 

For sixty miles, as Lance and Keith leaned into each other, cold winds swept in to stroke their limbs but Lance never felt cold. Every part of him that was touching Keith was so warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title is from the excellent song créeme by karol g and maluma.  
>   
> this is my first published fic; please review and/or leave constructive criticism! i don't intend for this to get too long so i'm limiting myself to 5 chapters in advance.  
>   
> season 8 may have been officially released but we don't know her. the story is what you make it.
> 
> more than anything, thanks for reading!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two boys in a gas station attempt to purchase items but they're having too much fun.

Lance felt that they were slowing down and looked up. Beyond the gleam of Keith’s helmet lay achingly familiar sight—the Southwest American gothic: a single gas station along a lonely highway, lending a fluorescent flicker to a tiny radius of the desert. He grinned despite himself. 

“Phillips 66. A fine choice,” Lance said. Hearing a soft chuckle from Keith, he continued, “Pairs very well with tonight’s desert. I’m getting notes of…gasoline? And a hint of grime?” 

“You have a good nose. Personally I think the aroma of old hot dogs really rounds it out,” said Keith. 

“Pffft! Man, I missed you,” Lance said, grinning, the words tumbling accidentally from his lips with surprising ease. He seemed to have left his self-control back at the Garrison; oddly, he didn’t mind. He imagined it still hanging in the air like a dust cloud behind the Roadrunner.

And as they pulled into a parking spot in front of the small market, he heard a quiet, “I missed you too.”

Lance’s stomach flipped. In an instant Keith’s intense warmth and proximity became overwhelming. As he hastily dismounted the motorcycle, cold air shocking his body at last, Lance resolved to figure out why Keith had been avoiding him for the past few months only to crash back into his life so willingly, laughing freely at his jokes. Lance would dig it out of him somehow.

After the Cheetos had been acquired. Hot Cheetos being so close but not yet obtained was a matter of extreme urgency.

He marched towards the mini-mart with purpose—and nearly fell over. 

“Oww. My legs are sore,” he complained, and began stretch his quads. He looked at Keith to find the dark-haired boy regarding him with amusement. “Aren’t yours?”

“I’m not a newb.”

“Hey!” 

“Just kidding. Hand me your helmet.”

“I can’t walk, my legs are broken,” Lance muttered, and hobbled his helmet over to Keith. 

As they entered the store and were met with the sound of country music through cheap speakers, Lance made a show of waddling dramatically just to be difficult. But Keith only laughed.

“You look like a cowboy.”

Lance gasped and said, “ _So that’s why they walk like that!_ It all makes sense! Keith, you’re a genius!” He paused. “Hand me that hat right there.”

Keith looked around, spotted a stand sporting an array of ridiculous cowboy hats. He snickered and took his time examining them, reading the engravings on the enormous buckles on a few: “You wanna be an Arizona Babe? Or a Grand Canyon Grandpa?”

“Is there anything that says, like, space cowboy? I’m feeling Spike-y right now.”

Keith looked at him, startled. “You watched Cowboy Bebop?”

Lance snorted and spun the hat rack slowly. “Did I _watch_ it? I _loved_ it. Spike was my gay awakening. Do you remember when he dropped those thugs in the convenience store?” 

“I remember.”

“That was it for me.”

“Good to know.”

Lance risked a glance at Keith. His expression was surprisingly open, mirth in the twitch of his mouth. A tiny wave of relief went through Lance. Everything was still normal. Not that he had expected otherwise—but he hadn’t formally come out to Keith yet. And apparently Keith was fine with it.

Something behind Keith caught his eye. “Oh hell yeah.” Lance plucked a red cowboy hat from the stand. “This’s perfect for you.”

“What’s it say?” 

Lance dropped it on top of Keith’s dark tresses and smirked. “Daredevil.”

Keith rolled his eyes, and spent another ten seconds examining the hat rack before exclaiming, “Ha!”

“Got one?”

“Oh yeah.” He produced a baby blue cowboy hat and placed it on Lance’s head triumphantly. Keith’s barely suppressed grin raised Lance's suspicions. 

“What’s it say?” He tried to take it off but Keith grabbed his wrists and pressed them down.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Keeeeith, tell me what it says!" 

“It’s a good one! Don't worry about it!”

“Let go of me or I'll bite you!” Lance struggled in Keith’s iron grip, laughing.

“Fine, it says ‘Princess’.” Keith released him.

Lance straightened up proudly. “Oh, hell yeah. You know it.”

“I _told_ you it was good.”

Lance ignored him and fished his phone from his jacket, throwing an arm around Keith’s shoulders to drag him into frame. Strong, toned shoulders that at some point had grown to fill out that motorcycle jacket perfectly. Lance felt his traitorous heart speed up as wayward strands of Keith’s hair brushed his neck, the other boy’s cheek only inches from his own. Keith’s strong hand settled lightly at the small of his back and Lance could feel his warmth through his jacket and his breath was definitely coming shorter—heart thudding louder—he hadn’t thought this through at all—

Mercifully his voice barely shook as he said, “Smile.”

Keith’s deadpan expression didn’t change as Lance snapped the photo. They lingered for a split second too long staring at themselves in the viewfinder. Lance’s charming grin, his eyes crinkled at the corners, perfectly juxtaposed Keith’s stubborn lack of emotion. 

Well. Lance, for his part, was staring only at Keith. Mesmerized by the hint of amusement in his pretend-frown and his sharp cheekbones and his black hair setting his light eyes aglow. The way the goofy cowboy hat looked weirdly dashing on him. 

_Oh no_. 

He released Keith and stepped away, almost stumbling. Feeling his face begin to heat up Lance quickly turned away and—thank God—was provided with a plausible distraction.

“CHEETOS.”

He hugged the entire rack of snacks. “Oh my god. I’ve missed you so much,” he told them. He heard a huff of laughter behind him and turned, preparing his best puppy-eyed look.

“How many can I get?”

Keith chuckled. “As many as you can carry back, I guess.” 

“Oh man. Okay. I guess the real question is how many can I hide in my room.”

Keith shook his head. “Don’t worry, they’re terrible at searching if you hide it right.”

Lance squinted at him. “Were you hiding stuff when we were in training? What were you hiding?”

“Mostly my evidence about Shiro and the Kerberos mission, some gear, I dunno. These days it’s just the cigarettes.”

“Keith…how old are you?”

Keith folded his arms defensively. “Old enough to buy cigarettes, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Lance looked around, then stepped close to Keith and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well…I was actually wondering if you could buy me some booze.”

“Pffft!” A raucous laugh burst out of Keith’s mouth. The dark-haired boy started giggling helplessly.

“Dude, say it, don’t spray it,” Lance complained, brushing off his sleeves with mock-disgust. Keith didn’t answer and just fell against one of the aisles, apparently unable to support himself. Were those _tears?_ Of _laughter?_ From _Keith?_

“What’s so funny?” Lance said, lost. An unbidden chuckle bubbled up in his throat. 

He tried to keep a straight face, attempting to stay serious about the drug-deal he was trying to commence here, but the longer Keith stayed collapsed against the pretzel section with a never-before-seen amount of glee shaking his frame, the harder it got. He hadn’t even said anything that weird! 

Against his will and still trying desperately not to smile, Lance joined in on Keith’s infectious cackling. 

“We gotta—we gotta stop, they’re gonna think we’re high,” he wheezed to Keith, who only redoubled with laughter and slid to the ground. It was like he’d just heard a joke for the first time in his life. A bag of pretzels followed him down to slap him on the head.

Lance fell to his knees and laughed so hard his abs were searing. A minute later, when their respective fits of absurdity were weakening, the boys locked eyes for a split second—and burst out laughing all over again. 

After several useless attempts at recovery, they were both out of breath and achy and Lance was _finally_ managing to keep it together. He stood up shakily and extended a hand to haul Keith to his feet; as soon as Keith was standing on his own, both of them still pressing down grins, Lance grabbed his friend by the shoulders. 

“Why…why,” he got out, still suppressing a few final giggles, “was that so funny?”

“Uh,” said Keith, “I just, I don’t really know, it’s just. You’re a _paladin_ of _Voltron_. And you can’t…” His stomach shook with contained laughter as he made a huge effort to continue. “You can’t…buy…booze. It’s just insane. Everything is so insane.”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed heartily. 

“…So will you buy it for me?” 

Keith shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Why not.” He glanced in the direction of the register, hidden behind an aisle. “You should probably leave first, and I’ll just buy everything.”

“You’re a life saver.”

Lance selected several varieties of Cheetos and other fondly remembered snacks and piled them high in Keith’s arms. He whispered “A fifth of vodka and a fifth of rum please” into Keith’s ear before spinning on his heel and strolling out of the shop, a little too nonchalant, placing his cowboy hat back on the rack on the way out.

When Keith emerged two minutes later with three bulging plastic bags in one hand and a wallet in the other, Lance’s curiosity won him over. 

“How old _are_ you?”

Keith tossed him the wallet. Lance flipped it open to the driver’s license inside.

“TWENTY-THREE?” Lance’s jaw dropped. He ogled Keith in disbelief before looking at the license again.

“Wait,” he said slowly. “Your name is Jeffrey Bostock?”

Keith guffawed. “No, you idiot!”

“Oh.” 

The penny dropped. 

“OH, this is a fake ID. Ooookay okay okay. Cool cool cool cool tight tight tight tight. Okay cool, not Jeffrey, that’s great news. But I still don’t know how old you are.” 

“Eighteen.”

Lance brightened. “I me! I mean, me too! That’s how old I me. Am. I’m...also that.” He winced. _Jesus christ._

Keith chuckled and shook his head fondly, walking over to his bike. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Following, Lance kept his traitorous tongue locked up. 

They managed to stuff everything they’d bought into Keith’s saddlebags (though Lance kept a bag of sour skittles in his pocket) and had both mounted the bike when Lance realized he wasn’t ready to go back to the Garrison yet.

“Wait--where are we going?” he said cautiously.

“Where do you want to go?” came the curious response.

Lance thought. There weren’t very many places _to_ go. For a split second the word “Disneyland” popped into his mind. _Is Disneyland still around? Did the Galra take over Disneyland?_

Somehow he couldn’t fathom they would find it very endearing, though they might like the rollercoasters. He shook his head. Disneyland could wait. He had a better idea.

“Can your bike go off-road?”

“Yeah, pretty well.”

“Do you wanna go find that house you were living in? Climb some rocks nearby or something?”

Lance tensed as Keith’s silence stretched on. _Was it that weird of an idea?_

His thoughts spiraled rapidly. _Maybe he’s sick of me—what a dumb suggestion, way to go Lance—maybe he’s just tired—_

“Sounds good.” Keith kicked the motorcycle into gear and they sped off, Lance’s quiet yelp of surprise lost to the acceleration.


	3. Chapter 3

“Do you think the Galra would like roller coasters?”

A hundred feet from Keith’s house in the desert, they were lying on the sandy ground outside. The protective alcove of a cliff sheltered them from the wind and shaded them from the too-bright moonlight. The only thing above them was the blanket of stars—so, so high above. 

“Probably,” Keith said after a minute. “I think they’re kind of thrill-seekers. But most of them are also pretty normal.”

“I know,” Lance said quickly. “I’m not trying to be species-ist, or whatever.”

“I know.”

“Do you like roller coasters?”

“I’ve never been on one.”

“What!” Lance sat up, outraged. 

Keith shrugged, which was an awkward gesture with his arms crossed. Arms and legs, both crossed. He was probably chilly, Lance guessed—and more than that, probably just as aware as he was that they were doing something brand new for the both of them. Late-night stargazing hangouts with no war to speak of…hadn’t really been a selectable option on the menu of their adventures. Not until now.

“Do you have any blankets in that house?”

Keith dragged his gaze away from the cosmic spectacle above them. “Yeah, in the closet. Why?”

“BRB.” Lance hopped up and ignored the quiet “wait—” behind him, returning a short while later with an armful of quilts and pillows. He tossed one at Keith’s face, smiling when a muffled “thank you” came back.

After a minute or so of shuffling they had each arranged a suitable blanket sandwich for themselves, their respective quilts not quite touching. 

“Blanket sandwich,” Lance murmured, wiggling a little with toasty satisfaction.

“What?”

“You’re the meat in your blanket sandwich,” Lance told him.

“What’re you then?”

Lance thought. “I’m a grilled cheese.”

“Of course you are,” Keith muttered. Lance had no idea what that could mean.

“So, you’ve never been on a roller coaster?” Lance prompted.

“Nope. I went to an amusement park as a kid once, but...I was too scared to go on any of the rides.”

“You? Scared?”

“Yeah, I was scared, alright? They all looked like they were gonna fly right off the tracks. I was like, eight years old.”

Lance chuckled. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to laugh at you. That’s just a hilarious origin story. Considering all the incredibly dangerous piloting you do.” He paused. “Also it’s pretty adorable to imagine little Keith refusing to get on a roller coaster. You were probably just barely tall enough to ride it, huh?”

He could hear Keith’s smile as he said, “Yeah. Actually, I was scared of a lot of stuff that day.”

“Like what?”

“Well…there were these big mascots of Snoopy and Charlie Brown, like people in costumes with the big heads. And I kept running away from them. My foster parents had to make an announcement over the PA that I was missing.”

Lance snorted. “Oh my god, Keith. Where were you hiding?”

“In a tree.”

Lance covered his face with his hands and laughed helplessly. 

When his laughter petered out, the two of them were left in silence, gazing up at the stars. 

Of course he hid in a tree. Keith loved to be up in high places. Lance had noticed this without meaning to, seeing that every time the team had some time to relax as a group, Keith tended to perch himself up on a rock or a countertop. At first Lance thought it was another manifestation of Keith’s aloofness, but as his opinion of Keith softened, he’d speculated that it was a way to keep watch from higher ground. For strategic purposes.

It occurred to him now that Keith probably liked being closer to the stars.

Lance imagined the billions of suns out there, bright and dim and old and young and some probably long gone. Some lonely, some surrounded by planets, some circling each other in a dance of unfathomable proportions and scales. All pouring their light directly into his eyes. Into Keith’s eyes.

The comfort that nestled into him when Lance realized that they were seeing the same thing, swimming in the same ancient wonder, gave him the courage to say what he’d been thinking all night. For the past few months, if he was honest.

“So, Keith.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you, like…okay?”

For a while was there was nothing.

“I’m fine.”

“You haven’t…been around much,” Lance ventured cautiously. 

It was true. Keith had been practically ghostly; he seemed to eat at a different time from everyone else, would show up to meetings but be the first out the door when they were over. Lance could swear he never even went to the bathroom—and Lance would know. He had camped vigilantly outside of the bathroom closest to their rooms for a whole day, just trying to catch a minute of Keith’s time. (He’d earned some weird looks that day. That one was on him.)

“I guess I’ve been busy.”

“I’m saying I miss you.”

It wasn’t accidental this time. He meant it, with all the force of the growing concern in his heart and the wicked doubts that had seeded in his mind: that maybe Keith had never liked him, and everything they had shared in the Castle of Lions was just…an act. That Keith had shared those moments and emotions with him because there had been no one else around to share them with. He knew, he KNEW with his brain that it wasn’t true, but without Keith around—without his eye-rolls and wry smiles and witty comebacks—without his rare and breathtaking grins and his casual strength and the quiet solidity he just _exuded_ at all times—there was nothing to quell the tiny, malevolent voice in Lance’s head.

Uncomfortable, as the silence thickened, Lance forced himself to press on.

“It’s…been weird without you…nearby. Just in the same room, you know what I mean? It’s like every room has a hole in it that I can’t stop noticing. I keep looking for you, but you’re never there.” 

“And I miss talking to you. And like, hanging out, like we’ve been doing just now…I really like it.”

Keith said nothing, still gazing at the sky.

Lance sighed. “If you’ve actually been busy, or you don’t wanna see me, that’s cool, man. I get it.” He chuckled bitterly. “Believe me, I wish I had that much to do. To tell you the truth, these days I feel like I’m just trying to fill the time for no reason. It’s really confusing. I thought once we landed…I just…I feel really lost.” 

His throat ached as the last words escaped. He hadn’t told anyone about that feeling, not even Hunk. Everyone seemed so happy with the war over, or they were so busy rebuilding their lives, it felt wrong to bring them down with his emotional nonsense that made no sense.

“Me too.” Keith said quietly.

Lance twisted his head to look at him. “Really?”

Keith nodded. “Yeah.” He bit his lip.

Lance held his breath. 

“I’m sorry. I…didn’t mean to do that to you,” Keith said softly. “I didn’t think anyone would notice if I disappeared.”

“I did,” said Lance, quietly. “I always do.”

Keith finally, finally looked at him.

Lance held his gaze, trying to convey everything he felt without words. Those feelings were still too dangerous, too confusing, to say out loud, but they were real and they were big. He knew that now.

After too long, Keith looked at the ground. His cheeks seemed darker.

“I really like it too.”

“Like what?” Lance asked, confused.

“Hanging out. Like this.”

“…Oh.” Lance was lost for words. 

Keith took a deep breath. “Man,” he said, his eyes flicking back to Lance’s. An unexpected quirk punctuated his mouth. “It feels good to talk to someone.”

Lance frowned. “Haven’t you been talking to Shiro?”

Keith’s eyes dropped again. “Shiro…is busy.”

“What? Too busy to _talk_ to you?”

Keith sighed. “Maybe not, but he just found Adam again and I thought I should give them some space for…all that. Plus everyone’s always looking for him to review stuff and make battle plans so I haven’t wanted to bother him. And you and Hunk and Pidge were all busy with your families so I didn’t want to interrupt that, but nobody seems to need my input on any of the planning stuff either and all the Garrison people kept staring at me and I hated it, so I’ve just been…sort of…leaving. Whenever I can.”

Lance was horrified. “Keith—”

“I just feel so fucking useless! I know defeating the Galra and coming back to Earth was supposed to solve everything, but it didn’t! I didn’t even _want_ to come back because I knew it would be just like before, where everyone has their own lives except for me. After Shiro disappeared, finding him was my only goal, and then piloting Red and fighting the Galra…it just felt right. There was finally something I was _good_ at, that people _wanted_ me to do and that I really loved. And then I turned out to be Galra and I was leading Voltron and that was harder, but I was getting okay at it, and then we came here and defeated them and everything just stopped. Shiro is the strategist, so they didn’t need me to lead Voltron anymore, and I don’t know anything about technology like Pidge or Hunk and I don’t have a family to spend time with. Nobody needed me, so I left.”

Lance’s stomach clenched so tight he felt sick.

“I needed you.”

“I—didn’t know.”

“I know. It’s okay.” Lance took a deep breath in, and paused to think. He said, “I think I owe you an apology.”

“You…what?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it clear earlier how much we needed you, Keith, because we really do. Team Voltron needs you, even when we’re not flying. You’re our true leader—not just an okay leader, or the stand-in for Shiro like you seem to think, you’re a _really good leader_. You see what has to be done, you see the consequences, and you can do whatever it takes. And I’m always gonna be there to help you because no one should have to make decisions like that alone.”

Keith was silent. Lance continued, his voice a quiet murmur. Trying to show Keith that he meant it. That it was true.

“But even—even if you weren’t our leader, we would still need you. Okay? Because you’re our friend, and you’re really smart, and you’re the best pilot out of all of us, and the best fighter, and we miss you a lot. We _do_ need your input and if the Garrison can’t see it it’s cause they’re a bunch of stuck-up A-holes.”

Keith snorted.

“I know Shiro misses you too.”

Keith turned back to the starry sky. “How do you know?”

“He asked me where you were. For some reason he thought I would know.”

Keith gave a huff of laughter. “Makes sense.”

“How does that make sense?” Lance asked, turning on his back as well. He folded his arms. “Am I supposed to have some kind of Keith homing beacon? Keith radar? A Keith compass? Your disappearing act is world famous, dude. In what world do I have the map to your secondary location.”

“He just knew I spent the most time in the castle with you. He told me he used to track me down by following the sounds of our arguments.”

“We didn’t even argue that much!”

“We argued all the time!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“This is not helping!” Lance laughed. He turned to look at the other boy, noted with tiny delight that a small smile had made its way to Keith’s face as well.

“So—so anyway,” Lance continued, his eyes grazing slowly down Keith’s profile. Soft eyelashes; quick, expressive lips; sharp adam’s apple. God. Lance’s subconscious really was to be commended for repressing his attraction to the other boy for so long. That must have taken some serious effort. 

He shoved that ridiculous thought aside and turned upwards again. Plowed onwards again.

“So yeah, I’m serious. Having your strategic leadership will increase our chances of survival, like, significantly. And I know it’s not always easy to work with the Garrison people, especially the idiots at the top, and there will be some definite infighting, but if it gets us to a stronger plan I think it’s worth it. They’ve never fought a war in deep space before. Never! Shiro is the only one in there who has a clue, and he wasn’t there to see you lead the fight against the newest evolution of the fragmented Galra empire because he was trapped in the drift the whole time or whatever. Plus your knowledge of the Blade of Marmora’s operations is in-fucking-valuable. Shiro can’t tell them anything about that.”

Lance paused for breath, having expelled all those words faster and faster towards the end.

“Yeah. So. I want to reaffirm that we definitely need you, dude, obviously for survival and shit but mainly just because we miss you, like, a lot. It’s not the same without you, it’s definitely much better when you're around. I don’t want to keep missing you when you're just around the corner. That’s the most important thing, to me at least. If even after all this planning we end up perishing in the darkness of space anyway, I…”

Lance’s throat was tight all of the sudden. “I want to…to make sure that all of us were as happy as we could have been.” 

Hot tears spilled out of the corners of his eyes and rolled sideways into his hair, unbidden, fast, silent. His throat ached with knots of emotions he couldn’t name. All the fear he pushed down and pushed down because there was no time. All the righteous fury. Soaring relief. There was no time. 

Falling for ever and ever. 

“Lance.”

Lance covered his mouth with his hand and shook his head, trying to stifle any sob that might escape. The ferocity of those emotions had surprised him.

“You can breathe, Lance.”

Lance nodded and tried, short breaths that forced themselves out as even more unwanted tears. His breath froze again when a warm hand touched his shoulder, tentatively. The moment he realized that Keith had scooted right up next to him, Lance turned and curled into him, breaking completely, long-awaited sobs hurling themselves out of his chest. Keith’s chest radiating warmth and Keith’s arm that slowly wrapped around him and Keith’s head that laid itself on his pillow with his chin on Lance’s hair and Keith’s murmuring voice all whispered to him that it was okay, that Keith understood, that it was okay.

Lance thanked Keith. Lance was tired. Lance fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew!! Sorry for the long break! I'll have a lot more free time to write now so hopefully I'll get another update up soon. Also, I hope you like emotional rollercoasters, because it sure felt like one to write that. 
> 
> If you can't tell, I'm very interested in the powerful cocktail of emotion one might feel after going through what the paladins of Voltron went through. I feel like the series skips over it for the most part, but the trauma and pain would probably be severe. I'm trying to figure out what these two unique characters would each do with those feelings in media res. Hoping I'm doing them justice. Let me know in the comments!


End file.
